


The young survivor

by xNovilunium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Backstory, Blood, Elf, Fantasy, Minor Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xNovilunium/pseuds/xNovilunium
Summary: The nights in Aeradale were too dangerous since their King’s death. No one at the castle was sitting on the throne long enough to make everything possible to protect the villagers from mercenaries and other bandits. All the villages around the capital – protected by huge ramparts – were left to their own devices. Some had managed to prosper and have enough food for the whole winter, no matter how long this one would last. Others, like this one, suffered a bad harvest and could barely feed every house.





	The young survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Backstory of one of my (many) ocs I'll use in the future again

The little boy bounced on his bed as his mother pulled the blanket up his body. It was the middle of a harsh winter, and they couldn’t even start a fire in their tiny house.

“Too dangerous, they might see us,” His father always said each time the boy complained he was too cold. “I’ll bring you another blanket.”

The nights in Aeradale were too dangerous since their King’s death. No one at the castle was sitting on the throne long enough to make everything possible to protect the villagers from mercenaries and other bandits. All the villages around the capital – protected by huge ramparts – were left to their own devices. Some had managed to prosper and have enough food for the whole winter, no matter how long this one would last. Others, like this one, suffered a bad harvest and could barely feed every house.

How many people, young and old, had they already buried? How many tears had they already cried? How many winters would they go through before their situation would get better? Did they have to wait for another King – one who would be like their late beloved King Cáel – to finally see an end to their misery?

No one knew.

“Áedán please,” His mother said, frowning as she tried to keep him in place. “It is time for little boys like you to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep! Please mommy, tell me the story!”

“Your favourite?”

“Yes!” Áedán exclaimed as he removed the blanket and climbed on his mother’s lap.

“Once upon a time,” She started as she ran her fingers through his black hair, his red eyes shinning as he looked at her, “there was an ancient kingdom, far, far away from ours. In this kingdom lived a beautiful prince and his twin sister.”

“And they had a swan.”

“Exactly, they had a swan. Each night, the two kids would sneak out of their bed, just like you do sometimes, and would go play by the lake with their swan.”

“It was a magical swan mommy, don’t forget it. With wings made of sapphires!

His mother chuckled. “The two kids were happy with their friend. When the moon was high in the sky, the swan left the lake and snuggled up to the two kids, keeping them warm. But one day, their little friend fell sick.”

“Bad people poisoned him.” Áedán said, his hand tight on his mother’s dress.

“Jealousy of men is the greatest of woes. They mourned the death of their friend for many days, and many nights. No one could comfort the two children. Princes and princesses from other realms came to the castle with arms full of presents. Rare fabric, gold jewellery, fruits they had only heard about in stories, and some brought them an animal from their kingdom.”

“But they didn’t want the presents. I wouldn’t either.” He said, the same sentence he would repeat each night.

“You wouldn’t want them? You would say no to riches beyond your wildest dreams?” She asked, playing his game.

“I am too young for jewellery, and where is the point of eating a fruit I have never tasted if I can’t share it with a friend?”

“You are so pure, my boy.” She kissed his forehead, then rocked him back and forth in her arms. “However, on the fourth day, one of the princes presented to them a magnificent swan. As white as snow, and eyes as black as charcoal.”

“It wasn’t their friend.”

“No it wasn’t. When the prince brought it before the princess, she broke into tears and left the throne hall. Her brother followed her to the lake, and found her lying on the ground, on the same spot they had spent their nights with their friend. They both cried. It was a loss too painful for two children. Do you know what happened then?”

Áedán shook his head and yawned as he rested his head against his mother’s chest. “What happened, mommy?”

“Their sorrow had attracted a fairy who, moved by their love for the swan, brought their friend back to life, as beautiful and strong as before. But she kept only little thing for herself.”

“The sapphires.”

“She kept them, so no one would try to hurt their friend ever again.” She kissed the top of his head and kept rocking him in her arms for a few minutes before she tucked him back in his bed.

“Mommy?” He called her as she was about to close the door behind her.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you think I will have friends like the prince and the princess?”

“Of course, my sweet child. As many as you wish.”

With these last words, Áedán closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind full of the pictures of the twins and the swan.

He didn’t know how long he had slept when he opened his eyes again. The smell of something burning made Áedán cough, and he pulled the blanket over his head as he could hear people screaming outside. People speaking a language he had never heard before, and horses. No one had horses in the village.

“Áedán!!” The door slammed against the wall as his mother ran to the bed. She took him in her arms and hid his face against her shoulder as they left the house through the back door.

Áedán saw fire burning a few houses, blood soaking the earth, and dead bodies wherever he laid his eyes on. He could hear his mother’s panic behind her soothing words, could hear her tears in the way she was telling him that everything would be alright. He didn’t understand what was happening. Who were these men? What were they doing in their village so late in the night? And more importantly, there was one person he couldn’t see.

“Mommy, where is daddy?”

“Don’t look please. Daddy is alright.”

They reached the edge of the forest, but they still could hear voices behind them. Some screaming, some begging, and some sounding way too close to them.

She crouched before him, her hands on his cheeks. Her face was wet with tears, but her smile was so bright that, for a few seconds, Áedán forgot they were trying to run away from a slaughter.

“Listen to me Áedán,” She said as she held his face close to hers. “Listen closely to mommy. Can you do that?” He nodded. “You have to run, run as far as you can. Don’t look behind you, no matter what you will hear. Do you understand?”

“Where is daddy? Don’t leave me here alone, please mommy.”

“Look at me,” Behind them, men were laughing, and she thanked the Gods when she noticed they weren’t ridding. “Mommy loves you. Don’t forget this.” She kissed his forehead, telling him again how much she loved him, before she pushed him inside the forest.

Áedán ran as fast as he could and did everything possible to not look behind him. He heard his mother scream, a scream that turned his blood to ice, and their laugh and cheers. Áedán only hoped his mother was alright, that his father was somewhere safe. For now, he had to run.

He couldn’t tell for how long he had run when he tripped on a root and hit his head.

His eyes snapped open. The ceiling above him seemed familiar, brown like the one the one in his house. This had to be a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. In a few minutes, his mother would come in his room and wake him up, kiss his hair and tickle him. His father would take him in his arms, his beard would sting his cheeks and make him laugh. Today would be like any other day. With no fire and no blood in the village.

Áedán tried to sit up, but the pain he felt at the side of his head made him fall back on the mattress.

“Don’t pretend to sleep, I saw you,” a girl’s voice said. She then jumped from the bed and ran outside, screaming, “Mommy! Daddy! He’s awake!”

“Ah, finally!” The little girl’s father said as they came in, her mother just behind him with a bowl of soup in hands. “You scared us back there.”

“What were you doing alone in the forest? You’re too young to be alone,” The woman said, calmly. “Where are you from?”

“Aeradale…”

“No, that can’t be,” The man said, smiling. It was a warm smile, just like his father’s. “You must live near Aeradale, right?”

“No. I live there. With my mommy and my daddy.”

“Oh dear,” The woman wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rocked him slowly. “I am so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Listen, my boy, something happened to your village,” The man said as he made his daughter leave the room. “Something bad happened. You are the only one who survived.”

The little girl was playing outside in a pile of hay, wondering if the boy would like to play with her once he would feel better, when she heard him scream for his mother.


End file.
